When the day met the night
by I belong in wonderland
Summary: Inspired by the Panic! at the Disco Song When the Day met the night; NonEstablishedKlaine!; Kurt and Blaine are two teenage boys who live in Ohio, so you can't expect anything very exciting to happen, right? Well, when one day they both gain strange powers and don't know what to do, let's just say things get interesting.
1. When the day met the night prologue

There are many ways I could start this story.

I could tell you how much despise certain people, or explain the weather, or make a stupid pun, or even show my omnipresent side and narrate through people you'll never see again after this prologue.

However, I think only one title is cliche enough to fit this love story on steroids: Once upon a time.

All right, here we go:

Once upon a time, there was a world not so different from ours. There was still air, McDonald's, cute animal YouTube videos, trees, even people, but there was one minor difference: there are two people walking around there that are personified versions of the sun and moon.

Are you confused? Good. I am too.

Basically, the sun and moon inhabit one person each at all times. However, they never actually _create_ people (who do you think they are, gods?) they just dwell in people who are already there that they like and resemble to personalities of. They don't actually hijack their bodies (that would be creepy) they just are _there_, in some deep internal part of that person's psyche, lending strengths, and at times, weaknesses.

There's just one catch, though.

The two people they reside in?

They are destined to fall in love, and the two don't know it.


	2. When the day met the night chapter 1

From the point of view of Kurt Hummel

It's funny how your entire life can change in one night.

Normally, days pass and nothing monumental or even relatively noteworthy will happen, and one day, the universe decides that your life is too boring and BAM! - You are now able to fly or create rainbows.

Unfortunately, though, what happened to me was not that pleasant.

However, if I want to be positive, I can say one good thing came out of it.

I met the love of my life.

...

If you asked anyone else, the temperature was wonderful; it was a warm 80 degrees, hot enough to go swimming but not too chilly, even if a breeze picked up.

For me, though?

I was in HELL.

In my current position of an overheated lump on my bedroom floor, I looked like a deflated kiddy-pool that someone had not bothered to take the water out of. My forehead was gleaming with sweat, my once-fabulous Marc Jacobs shirt was ruined, and I was too hot to care.

Or think rationally, for that matter.

The sunlight streaming through my large windows was a beam of fire, and my room was a sauna despite the seven fans on their highest setting blowing air on my slouched figure. I thought about asking my dad for some ice packs - or for him to pour ice water on my head - before my inflamed brain could recall that he was at work, while my step-mom Carole was at the hospital for her job, and my stepbrother Finn was probably off mindlessly killing virtual zombies with Puck.

So basically, no one could help me.

Great.

I had to take matters into my own hands, and what I needed right now was something cold -anything cold. In my jumbled mind, a light bulb went off, and I decided to make my way to the center of cold in any modern household - the refrigerator.

I tried to stand, which turned out to be an unintelligent move that had me on my face on the floor. In a brief moment of inspiration, I decided a more reasonable move would be to crawl. I stabled myself on my vanity stool, and got on my hands and knees. Moving at all was hell in itself at this point, and it took all of my energy to make it to the door.

Yeah, it wasn't one of my finest moments.

In a herculean endeavor, I pulled the door open, and somehow managed to climb up the stairs into the thankfully nearby kitchen. My vision was starting to swim, and with one last mighty effort, I grabbed one of the hardwood drawers next to the refrigerator so I could pull myself up. I was directly next to the fridge, and with a grace envied by many a penguin I flung myself at it, smashing my face straight into the magnetic calendar marking today as the summer solstice. With flexibility that I would be impressed with in normal circumstances, I twisted my arm and yanked the door open. A weak blast of cold surrounded me, and it didn't do much to help, but I was grateful for anything at this point. I grabbed a chilled water bottle, and, after relishing the cool relief on my hands, untwisted the lid. I put it to my mouth, and took a deep, long sip, which may have consisted of the entire bottle. Oh well. I repeated the process, again and again, until my thirst was somewhat sated and we were out of water bottles.

You may be wondering how I got here.

It's a good question.

It's also one I don't really know the answer to.

All I know is that I woke up this morning, and everything had seemed blazingly hot. When I had woken up that morning, my expensive Egyptian cotton sheets were a death trap, and when I went downstairs for breakfast I couldn't hug my dad without the impression that he was a campfire. I've checked my skin for burns more times today than I ever have in my entire life, and yet I always have looked completely fine.

I have no idea what's going on, but maybe someone can tell me, because I can't be alone in this.

Right?


	3. When the day met the night chapter 2

From the point of view of Blaine Anderson

The second I woke up to the rising sun in my window, I knew one thing: today was going to be amazing.

I felt fantastic, despite the fact that it was 6:30 in the morning and I hadn't had my coffee yet. When I stepped into my bathroom, I could hardly believe I had just woken up. My hair was brushed out and not a curly Afro, my skin had this healthy gleam to it, and I didn't even have sleep under my eyes.

"Guess I'm just having a lucky day", I said to my reflection, and proceeded to get ready.

After about 30 minutes, (Not having to gel my hair cut my time in half!) I was finished, so I grabbed my phone and went downstairs for a quick breakfast.

I grabbed a banana and some granola, which I devoured (I was really hungry for some reason) and shot my friends Wes and David a quick text:

_Hey do u guys wanna hang out tdy_

_-B_

Which they responded to with:

_It is summer, Blaine. Why must you wake me up in at half past early in the summer?_

_-W_

and

_ Go back to bed, you antsy child._

_-D_

"Oh well!" I said aloud. "I'll ask again later, but until then, I'm going to go outside. It's too nice of a day not to..."

The only ones who listened were the draperies and my banana peel that formed a soft, sad smile.

...

After about seven hours of frolicking in my yard, I picked up my phone and texted Wes and David again, hoping for better results this time around. Oddly enough, they were much more agreeable, and we scheduled to go for coffee (I know I've already had my coffee, but a person can never have too much coffee) at the Lima Bean coffee shop, which had been one of our favorite haunts after school when it was in session. I grabbed my satchel (no, it is _not_ a man purse) and skipped out the door.


	4. When the day met the night chapter 3

From the point of view of Kurt Hummel

As you can very well imagine, my parents were slightly concerned when they found me lying on the floor of the kitchen in a pile of empty water bottles. Carole had been the first to walk in, and she almost screamed when she saw me, because, as she confessed later, she thought I was dead or had passed out.

I tried to brush the incident off, but neither of them would let it go.

"Kurt, you passed out on the floor!" My dad exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

"No I didn't," I croaked, wincing at how weak my voice was, "I'm completely fine."

"Sweetheart, you were 10 minutes from having a heat stroke." Carole said softly, "And you were inside. Can you tell us what's going on?"

"I don't know!" I said with much force as I could muster, which made my voice crack horribly. "I'm not on any medication, so it's not some bizarre side effect; I haven't done anything out of the ordinary recently, and I haven't been around anyone sick or anything! I don't know what this is!" I started to sob.

"It's okay, sweetie," Carole murmured. She turned to Burt. "This isn't any illness I recognize, so the best we can do is try to make him comfortable. She turned back to me. "Is there anything you'd like?"

"Can I have an iced coffee?" I coughed. "I'm getting sick of water."

Carole smiled at that. "Sure you can. I'll go grab one from that coffee place you like." She gave me a kiss on the cheek, and turned to my dad to give him a hug. "I'll be right back. Love you both!"

She started to make her way on the door, but right as she reached the handle, it opened and a beaming Finn stepped in.

"Hi mom," he said. Burt coughed lightly. "Oh, hi Burt! Hi, Kurt!"

I laughed softly. Leave it to him not to notice the elephant in the room.

"What's so funny?" He frowned, and then noticed my position. "OH! You're on the floor! What happened?"

"We're not sure." Carole said. "I've got to go, though, so be nice to your brother."

"Okay then," Finn said, looking utterly baffled. I decided to be kind and explain the situation to him.

"Well, then you need to get off the floor." he sent me a grin, and in two giant steps (well, they were normal steps for him) he stood next to me and picked me up.

I barely managed not to scream. His hands on my skin felt like fire! I had to respond, though, or Finn and Burt would know something was up.

"Finn!" I sputtered. "What are you doing?"

"Putting you somewhere more comfortable." He replied. "You must really be feeling bad if you were lying on the ground in one of your fancy sweaters."

In a feeble attempt at normalcy, I punched him in the shoulder, and in return, he stuck his tongue out at me and set me on the couch.

"Anything else you need?" He asked.

"About fifty-thousand ice-packs." I replied. "And maybe the Sound of Music. If anything can make me feel better, it's Julie Andrews."

My dad chuckled, while Finn looked confused again. I sighed. I can only explain things so many times before my patience runs out.

"Just go get him an ice pack," Burt said with an amused look.

Once Finn had left the room, my dad sent me a weak smile. "How are you kiddo?"

"I've been better." I admitted. That got a real smile.

"Are you really okay?" he said. "We can go to the doctor if you need to."

I shuddered. "While your concern is appreciated, I can do without a hospital visit."

The look my dad sent me then was so sorrowful, I appreciated it when Finn blundered back in the room.

"Here are-" Finn started to count the pile of ice packs in his arms. I mentally face-palmed. "Twelve ice packs." he started to look a little sheepish. "Some of them might smell a little when I used them for football and-"

"Thank you, Finn," Burt interrupted.

"Thanks," I said, to both Finn and Burt. I really don't need to know where those have been. That might actually make this situation worse.

Finn dropped the ice packs on top of me, and the relief was so intense I missed a quick exchange between him and Burt. I tuned in again to hear Finn say-"I'm gonna go play Call of Duty with Puck now."

"Wait, weren't you just at his house?" I asked, exasperation leaking into my voice.

"But Call of Duty is awesome,"

I sighed. I swear my five-year-old cousin could have offered a stronger argument.

"Remind me to ask Carole if you were ever dropped on your head as a child." I quipped.

Burt started to laugh, but quickly stopped and sent me a light glare. Finn still looked confused.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Carole walked in, carrying my cup of iced coffee, what looked like a mocha for her, hot chocolate for Finn, and some de-caf for my dad.

"Thanks," I said. Finn and my dad echoed.

"You're welcome," Carole said. "You tell me if you need anything, alright?"

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

And with that, she left the room.

"Bye, guys," Finn said, and he stumbled up the stairs with his hot chocolate.

"I have some paperwork to finish up," Burt said, "See you later, kiddo."

And with that, I was alone again.


	5. When the day met the night chapter 4

From the point of view of Blaine Anderson

With a sigh, I twisted my straw in my coffee and stared at the door. I _hated_ being stood up.

Oh, you think I'm overreacting, don't you?

Five minutes is one thing. Ten is another. But after thirty, I think _anyone_ would be upset.

I picked up my cup and took a long sip, trying to drown my irritation and dejection.

The bell signaling someone is coming in the shop rung suddenly, and I jump up to see it's just a woman with short brown hair and a nurse's uniform. I sighed, and slowly stood up and walked towards the door.

In my melancholy mood, I was lost in my head, and didn't notice the woman until I ran into her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed. "I wasn't looking where I was going!"

"That's okay, sweetie." The woman said. "I can't say I was looking either. I'm just worried about my step-son."

"Is he alright?" I asked.

"He's probably fine," she said, a worried look gracing her features, "He just woke up this morning really overheated for no reason at all. I'm bringing him an ice coffee to try to help him feel better."

"That's really sweet of you," I said, "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Oh thanks, dear," she replied. "I've got to go now. My name is Carole, by the way."

"My name is Blaine," I said, "And I have to be going as well, so goodbye, Carole."

She smiled, and walked out the door.

Don't you wish _everyone_ was that nice?

...

I pulled my car into the driveway of my house, and quickly climbed out, slamming the door behind me. I cannot believe Wes and David didn't even bother to show up! It's not as if we've been friends for years or anything like that.

I opened the front door, and started to walk over to my room. I was in the mood to be alone.

I was so stuck in my head; I didn't see my mom until she coughed loudly from her spot in the kitchen.

Maybe I should stop doing that.

"Blaine?" my mother called. "Come here, please."

I groaned (internally, of course) and walked over to my mother. "Yes ma'am?"

"Sit down," she commanded. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"Yes ma'am." I mumbled.

"Speak louder, and more clearly, the point of speaking is to have people hear you talk."

"Yes ma'am," I said miserably.

"Oh, and Blaine?" she added. "Look me in the eyes when I talk to you."

"Yes ma'am."

I left to go to the dining room before she could correct me anymore, and plopped down in my chair, quickly straightening up before I could be told off for my posture.

After about five minutes, my father came in, and he sat at the head of the table (as always) and stared straight at me. I willed myself not to flinch under his gaze.

"How have you been, Blaine?" my father asked. "I haven't seen you in quite some time."

"I've been very well father." I said, keeping my tone formal in an imitation of him. "I met up with my friends Wes and David today and had an excellent time."

He doesn't need to know they didn't bother to show up.

"Very good," he stated. "Mr. Montgomery is a brilliant young man, a real credit to his family. You would do well to model yourself after him."

"Yes sir." I responded. "How are things with work?"

While my father started to go on about one of his clients, I allowed my mind to wander, which led it, oddly enough, back to that woman at the Lima Bean. Carole, I think it was. She had just seemed so genuinely kind, something I just didn't see a lot of, unfortunately.

I just wished _my_ parents cared about me as much as she seemed to care about her step-son. It seems all they've ever wanted was for me to be this charming, handsome, intelligent aristocrat who wants to take over the family business.

My father owns a banking franchise, and I'd rather be an assistant manager at a rendering plant than ever work there.

But the worst part is that's not what would upset my parents the most.

You see, the thing is...

I'm gay.

You understand how screwed I am now, right?

"Dinner is ready!" my mother called.

I stood up and walked back over to the kitchen, and grabbed one of our rare, imported, over priced plates before walking over to my other. She dribbled a small amount of what looked like caviar and onions onto my plate. Seeing my questioning look she said, "It's caviar Torte with champagne onions. You need to refine your palette. "

"Thank you," I said quietly, and I walked my meager portion of food back to the table. My father already had his, and was sitting stiffly, clearly waiting for us to come back. My mother followed me quickly, her portion even smaller than mine, and sat down to my father's left.

"Time to bless the meal," my father said. "Is there anything anyone wants to share?"

"No sir." my mother and I replied.

"Alright then," he said, and put his hands together and head down.

He quickly said the prayer, and we all started to eat.

I tried to hide my disgust. This tasted the way the inside of a baby's diaper smells.

"This is wonderful, honey." My father said.

Of course.

I ate as quickly as I could, and, after putting my plate away, asked my parents, "May I be excused?"

"Yes, you may." my father said, and I walked away as fast as I could.

Once my parents were out of sight, I ran as swiftly as I could to my bedroom, jumping up the winding staircase, and skidding across the hallway to the door. I yanked my door open, and sat by my bed, trying my hardest not to cry.

What happened to today being a good day?


End file.
